Minotaur
by LSR-7
Summary: Sonnet XLVIII Sequel. Working title may change. V&EV still have inner demons to defeat, nothing, not even a second lease on life comes easy. Rating may go up in future. Please RR!
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: This is a sequel to Sonnet. This chapter is perhaps not complete, but in any case it is where the sequel shall start even if it is on the short side. It will be rather unpredictable when I will be able to update next, I am very busy with university. Please read and review.

Chapter 1

It seemed that the outside, topside world was calming down. Finch and Stone at Scotland Yard still couldn't quite believe the chain of events that led to the chaos… and their eventual recovery of a moderate amount of control once all ties to corrupt Fingermen had been cut, police seen quite separate from the Norsefire blasphemy that was Sutler's rule. Almost miraculous really, oh of course there were still lots to do and it had been more than bumpy, Finch's twenty-seven years with the Party didn't disappear. But of all the Party members, he had the least nefarious character; in fact he had a rather positive reputation for the most part. The people did look upon them with suspicion; Norsefire's stain on their reputation couldn't be lifted that easily. Although after seeing that no action was being taken against them for rallying the streets all hours of the day and night and seeing that they were doing their intended jobs of arresting the obviously dangerous and not those who broke questionable laws, eyes did not glare as hard.

Citizens had taken it upon themselves to control the city, leaders born in all sections of towns and directing mayhem into more productive outlets that would benefit them all. It seemed V's plan was working, if not as immediately as some had thought it would be. And speaking of the dead terrorist turned hero, Finch wondered how Evey was getting along. He hadn't seen her since THE night. He found himself casting a glance among the crowds, unconsciously looking for a shorn-head waif, but he did not see her.

In the cool depths that was the Shadow Gallery tension was beginning to build between its two occupants. Perhaps for Evey it would be quite accurate to describe it as sexual tension. Her relationship with V seemed to come to a standstill and Evey couldn't understand why. They continued to watch a movie from V's extensive collection most nights, Evey snuggled against an accepting V, end with a goodnight kiss and go to their respective bedrooms (they found another mattress buried among his many salvaged items in one of his storage rooms so that he could move from his small cot at Evey's insistence). Sometimes she would be in a certain mood and they would be upon each other… but then he held back and it didn't go much further than heavy kissing when Evey felt they could go on to more. It was always the formerly masked man who would back off first and urge them to cool their ardor and it frustrated Evey to no end.

She made an effort to not push him as several ideas came to mind. Did he hold the notion that sex could not be considered until after… marriage? The thought made her have other interesting thoughts in that vein, but tried to clamp down on it. No, marriage was government sponsored, definitely not something V would go for as far as she could understand. Is he shy, uncomfortable with such intimacy? It had been hard enough for him to finally reveal his face to her and aside from when she aided him with his injuries he kept himself covered except for head and hands.

Evey had spotted V in front of his repaired vanity once, staring at himself, a wig in his scarred hands. She had startled him when he heard her approach and hastily, guiltily, put down the wig. She didn't ask and he didn't tell her, but after that she kissed his head and stroked it hoping to convey that she liked him as he was whenever she found the opportunity to do so. But she couldn't help but feel as if they were becoming distant from each other even as they seemed to get closer as they read books, watched movies, have engaging conversations that lit up their minds.

And so, with all this happening it wouldn't be too surprising to say that she couldn't take it any longer. They watched a movie this particular evening and as was inevitable Evey slouched into V, his arm around her shoulders as he slumped back into the couch. It had been Evey's turn to choose a movie and decided on one that she had not seen before, had she looked up at him when she read the title she may have caught the look of slight panic reach V's eyes.

He had tried to sway Evey into picking a different movie, but she was curious about this particular title as she had not seen it before. She was also becoming suspicious with V's behaviour as he had never tried to change her mind about choosing a particular movie before. So it was that they were on the couch, V slumped back in defeat, Evey against his side, that they began the movie in the dark.

As they watched on Evey came to understand quite clearly why V had tried to dissuade her from this particular film. She came to hide her face into his side as a blush blossomed across her cheeks at the scenes of passionate romance colored the screen and filled the room with intimate sounds. She discreetly watched from his side and through the embarrassment came a longing from deep within her. Though they were actors, the couple on the screen looked truly in love and were doing what she had only dreamed of doing with her V. The movie continued on, but Evey's mind dwelled on the physical loving that had happened in the previous scene.

V had silently watched it all, giving no outward reaction to any of it, even hoping futilely that Evey would not be affected by the movie to ask for what he could not give to her. Though her physical reaction had been quite endearing in how she had hid her face into his side, her flushed cheeks…

The movie ended, credits rolling on a black screen, the room almost pitch black but for the insubstantial light emitted by the white letters. V was highly aware of Evey's movements as she slowly crept up his side, the warmth of her body permeating his clothing and skin. He was certain where her thoughts lay and had to stop her before it would hurt her… no, it would already hurt her.

"I think it is time we turned in for the night," V pronounced as he began to push himself up from the sofa.

Unfortunately for him she wasn't going to let it go this time.

"V?" she gasped out, tears were making its way to her eyes, glistening and reddened in a confused betrayal, "Why are you avoiding me? Don't you love me? Why can't we just-"

She couldn't finish, but her thoughts were clear and hung thickly in the air between them. His back was to her, stilled by her words. He didn't want to answer, wished she had never verbalized what he dreaded. He knew that it must have crossed her mind countless times, but as long as she had not asked he would not tell. But she now asked and he had promised her no more lies, no more secrets. No matter how painful he found it. She deserved that much from him.

"I cannot," he started, still facing away from his love, "I love you with all my eaten heart, but I cannot give myself fully to you. My heart and mind are fully yours and always will be, please let that be enough."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It was difficult to imagine the great and fearless V to run off, and yet that was what he did. He flashed out of the room, donned wig, mask, and cloak and disappeared out of the Shadow Gallery.

Evey sat on the couch, still in front of the telly, and listened to the silence. She felt so alone and for a dreadful moment believed that all events up to this point, alone in the Gallery, had been dreamt up. So succumbed with grief over V's death she must have gone mad and dreamed he had survived, only to lose him again and find herself alone once more. But no, her mind hadn't played some cruel, twisted joke on her after all. The spot on the couch next to her was still warm and indented with his presence; she had to trust that if not the horrible ache in her chest.

He slipped into shadows, no longer out of practice, as if he had never been injured and down for the count the past few weeks. The guilt he felt at leaving suddenly was finally overpowering his fleeing instincts. He paused in a narrow, damp, mold-scented alley… but only momentarily as he found a way up to the roof of the brick building. No good being caught pondering on the ground where others were likely to wander.

In the encompassing night that shrouded London, surviving street lamps glowed at arbitrary intervals. They all hadn't been repaired after the riots.

For the most part the winter had been dry and cold up top. His breath shown white against the dark velvet of the night sky. He could feel the condensation of it gathering and dripping cold onto his chin and start running down unpleasantly into the neck of his clothes. His face was wet. It had to be the condensation…

He laughed bitterly, of course, he didn't fear his own demise. He knew going in to meet Creedy and his Fingermen would mean certain death, and yet he couldn't face his little Evey. Evey and her desires.

His throat felt too dry. He swallowed, trying to moisten his esophagus before the dryness pinched and tore at it. He needed to return to her before she thought he abandoned her. No, he had left for long lengths of time previously, she shouldn't think he would abandon her. He had returned every time, not even Creedy's bullets had stopped him.

How would he explain? He had already exposed his love to so much darkness, his own vendetta, how could he do any more? It would hurt her, experiments and burns were not the whole sum of his experience in Larkhill.

V thought he had gotten over it by now, his vendetta complete, but even skirting around and not directly thinking about what had happened made him want to heave. Especially now that he had to expose Evey to it.

She was still sitting on the sofa when he returned. As per usual he came in quietly, hat and cloak draped over a bust near the doorway. It wasn't until he was almost upon the movie area that she sensed him. Her head turned with a jerk and she sprang up, running around the furniture to throw herself into V. He caught her as she squeezed him tightly to her, pressing her face into his chest.

V gently rubbed Evey's thin back, brought a hand up to cradle the back of her head.

"I'm sorry to have worried you, I needed to cool my head," he told her quietly, his masked face tilted into the top of her head.

"You're forgiven, I will always forgive you. Just always return, I don't think my heart can take much more of your leaving like that," she murmured into his chest before releasing him from her tight embrace, reassured he was there and not going anytime soon. She pulled herself back from him, small hands resting along his sides. She looked up into his white mask. His other face, the one most familiar and most unreadable.

"I'm sorry to have upset you V, but would you please explain?" the look on her face told him that she had been searching for meaning in his words while he was away, and was not satisfied with any of her possible answers.

Evey deducted the hushed whoosh that came out was a sigh. He led her back to the sofa, motioned for her to sit then followed in action, sitting on the edge, back straight momentarily. He settled into a slight slump, not relaxed as the position should have indicated. She wanted to remove his mask so she could attempt to read his stiff facial expressions, and most of all, his expressive eyes. But that mask was his security blanket, and he clearly needed it now. The Hammond woman worried what he had to tell her and correctly, unknowingly, speculated that it had something to do with Larkhill.

Gloved hands interlaced themselves on top of black-trousered knees. They lightly dragged back into the vigilante's lap as he straightened up, body turned to his former captive. The distance between them might as well have been the world.

"Evey," he began, almost tasting her name as it came across his tongue, past his lips, "I did not make you suffer the whole battery of tortures and tests that I and my fellow inmates had at that time at Larkhill."

Evey listened carefully to every word that dropped from his porcelain lips, storing them away, piecing them together. She thought back to her time in that cell, remembered rough hands dragging her out, almost drowning her, and being stripped, fearing something more than the power spray. What he had not done to her was something that the Fingermen would have done to her in the alley had V not come to her rescue.

"I do believe you know what I speak of," V commented out loud as he saw realization open her face. She looked at him and despite the mask he felt she had pierced the black depths, straight into his eyes. She remained silent, waiting for him to continue. What he said would affect the understanding of their relationship and how she would proceed to mend it.

"Lilliman, Prothero, among others," the names were spat out like so much disgusting refuse, leaving a horrible taste in V's mouth, "You could imagine."

He backed off from what he was about to say, not wanting to remind her, or himself, of her moment of weakness and betrayal with Bishop Lilliman. She knew what he was getting at.

"So many times it had happened that I can't not think about it if we were to express our love so physically. It makes me sick, but it's not you Evey," he added quickly, seeing her look of distress, he reached out to her, taking her hand and holding it between his larger ones, "It's not you that makes me sick, it's damage done long ago and I associate such physical reactions… I know the reasoning, but I can't undo it just because I want it to."

Her reaction surprised him, worried him. Evey gave out a dry laugh, such a cynical look he had never seen on her face before.

"You're saying you can't love me fully. I won't claim to have gone through even the most miniscule amount that you went through in Larkhill, even when you kept me in that detainment center of yours," V was taken aback, Evey pulled back from him on the sofa as she continued, "but don't think that juvenile reclamation center was just a walk in the park."

She heard him breathe in, not quite a gasp as he straightened up even more, if that was possible. She kept talking, feeling cold, "You didn't think prisons monopolized all the evil and corrupt did you? As naïve as I may have seemed," she choked out, "I wasn't left untouched."

Tears were itching her eyes, blurring her vision, but still she continued, fury shaking her frame, "I was a child, but that didn't matter! And you're telling me that I can't get that erased? I can't have that from you who I want more than anything, but I can from those who I never wanted to- they could do that, but you won't try?"

"Evey-" her name cut out from his throat, mangled. He couldn't even speak, but wasn't it said that actions spoke better than words. She was starting to hyperventilate, he crushed her to him even as she struggled, "No! Let go! You said you didn't want this!"

Still, he held her to him as she tried to beat against his chest, futile as her arms were trapped between them. It hurt, his hold on her, it all hurt. Her struggles came to a gradual end as she tired in her efforts to have him release her. A weary, almost despondent voice wafted up from her position to his chest, "Why don't you just let me go then?"

After a long silence he finally gathered his voice, "You are my heart and my life now. You are not being rational right now. I do hope you don't mean that."

If it was truly her wish, '_But it could not be,'_ he thought and fervently hoped, he would not stop her from leaving, but damned he would be if he didn't give up a fight if that ever happened.

Was he really that naïve to think…? No, but he hadn't wanted to think of that possibility for Evey. There were truly good people out there, but Evey's life had been full of bad luck. His chest tightened, who had damaged his sweet Eve? His thoughts turned to darker avenues that involved taking up arms once more…

She had finally relaxed into him, both resigned and now welcoming it. She really didn't want him to let her go, she couldn't let him go.

He still held onto her tightly, but when he felt her leaning into him with no intention of pulling away he gentled his hold on her.

He whispered into her short hair, she strained her ears and caught, "- let this be enough for now… we will get through this."

Evey was in the shower, she had complained about her puffy eyes. V puttered about, hard to imagine but that's what he did. He didn't know what to do with his knowledge. He hadn't asked, didn't want to; was it molestation? Rape?

Which ever it was it didn't matter, she had been assaulted. But she still wanted his touch, she got over her ordeal… or had she? Was it just himself, or did it seem that Evey equated sex to mean love? He could perhaps understand her frustrations, but… he shook his head, there was too much to think about.

**Author's Notes**: It was by very odd coincidence that as I was writing this chapter with my music on random that "The Damage in Your Heart" by Weezer played. But then again as a certain mustachioed masked man had said, "Like God, I do not believe in coincidences," or something to that effect. I'm back home for a short winter break, it had snowed nonstop for two days here (think waaaay north). You all were lucky I had finished Sonnet so I give warning that although I intend to finish all stories that I start, there is no guarantee that it will happen soon.

Special thanks go to my reviewers of this story: PyroSlytherin, Pumpkinator (both you and Pyro made me laugh, I wonder if you both thought that V's "special bits" have become "damaged goods" in Larkhill…), bluecrowlaughing, Nikita S, Jjah-Jjah (Gabor:-P)

Thank you all for your interest and please continue to review!


	3. Chapter 3

Please Read and Review!

**Chapter 3**

It seemed that whenever V and Evey sat down to "talk" it was always serious and painful. Evey would rather bang her head on a brick wall than have another "talk". Well, almost. Were it not for the advances in their relationship these talks usually made, she was certain she would have happily already made that hole in a wall with her bare head.

Now there seemed to have been a step backwards after their latest "talk". V was back to wearing a mask and gloves and seemed to avoid all physical contact with her. Not a step backward, leaps and bounds away from where they had gotten in their relationship. Apparently her worst fear came true, now he knew she was soiled. Despite his words of comfort and assurances that they would get through this, Evey felt cold and was desperate for another reason he had distanced himself from her. After all this time she couldn't loose her faith in him that easily, there had to be another explanation.

It was the day after her revelation to V. She had gone to the kitchen, following delicious smells, as if everything was as it had been the previous few weeks. But to her dismay V was as suited up as ever. It said "impenetrable" to Evey, down to the usually jovial mask and frilly apron. He had her breakfast ready with no trace of his on place being set. She just wanted to crumble away into dust right there.

What had all that been for? What had all that progress meant if it was just to return to this? She wanted to turn right back to her bed, sleep, and wake up to find that this was not reality. Her pause had taken long enough for him to notice; certainly he had known her probable reaction all along. What did he expect after all that has happened? She trudged forward because she had to. No use making things more difficult than they had to be. All her energy was drained, and she felt all over again the waif from a concentration camp as she had been not so long ago.

"Good morning Evey," the figure in black said, for all the pretenses he actually had the decency to sound strained. Good.

She gave a nod as he scraped back his seat across from her and sat in it. He watched as she slowly picked at her food, tearing small pieces off the edge of the toast, nibbling on them, but not really eating. Evey noticed the curling energy around V seeming to wilt though he did not seem to have shifted at all in his posture. Well that was fine too. Misery loves company and all.

"Evey?" he began.

"Yes?" she looked up at him, subsiding from picking at her cold food. He couldn't help but notice the dark smudges under her eyes in contrast to her pale skin. And she had finally started to look healthy…

"Evey," he began again, more firmly, "I can't help but feel that we are wandering about in the dark. Either of us does not know how to deal with this situation correctly, if there is a correct way to go about this," he let out a small sigh, his fit body settled ever so slightly down into his hard wooden chair. Evey finally pushed her plate away and crossed her arms across her chest. V carefully noted this as he continued, "I couldn't sleep, so hard was I trying to come up with a solution for the both of us. I need to ask," at this her eyes darted up, ears almost visibly perking up, "have you had relationships before?"

He saw her small frame tense up, her face turning cold in its blankness. Evey's mouth twitched a hair away from a snarl as she spat out, "What do you think-?!"

"No, no my love! That's not what I meant," V spoke softly, alarmed at her behaviour and attempting to calm her, he so very much wanted to reach out, soothe her as she had him on numerous occasions, but doing so now could end disastrously, "I meant if you had a, ah, suitor before, a boyfriend."

He saw the effort she put in as she tried to release her tense shoulders, relax into her chair eyes closed with a breath, "Not really so much in the sense that you mean. A relationship doesn't last too long after they find out about my circumstances. No money and both my parents being black-bagged and all, they don't know what kind of trouble they'd find being with me."

All anger and sarcasm was dropped, she looked so forlorn that he could not help himself from going to her side and gathering her up into his arms. She didn't fight it, she embraced his gesture. Finally, he had taken initiative and she enjoyed it as much as she could with a heavy heart. She closed her weary eyes, resting her cheek on his broad, aproned chest and sighed.

With a light, rueful smile she said, "And here my coworkers had complained about men just wanting sex from them and not willingly giving cuddle time. How ironic that it's reversed with you."

He tried not to tense at her verbal jab and pulled her body closer to his were it possible. Her soft voice quavered out from his chest again, "But you're not just an average bloke with an average life and with the past year's events I'm not just a normal girl am I?"

It was meant to be a rhetorical question more than anything else.

"There's nothing average about you. I wouldn't want a normal girl. I dare say a so called 'normal' girl would not have put up with such an atypical bloke such as myself. Then where would we be?" he mumbled humorously into her hair.

"Let's dance," said Evey, seemingly out of the blue. She looked up seriously into his mask.

"Let me put on some music then," V replied and made to remove himself.

"No, I can hear the music, you should listen harder," she said in all seriousness.

V had tilted his head slightly and replied, "As you wish dearest Evey."

Their hands joined, V's other hand wrapped around Evey's back and she placed hers lightly upon his shoulder. They gently rocked to a song only they heard in the silence. Soon Evey's head rested once again on the aproned chest of V, arms around his neck as his wrapped around her waist. He rested his own head atop of hers as they danced away in the kitchen.

Nothing really had been resolved, but now V knew slightly more about her past history with men. Granted, not much, but enough to know that she was as new as he was to the field of a prolonged relationship.

They had retired to the couch, his frilly apron finally removed. No, nothing had been resolved but their mood had been slightly lightened with her comments and their dancing. Perhaps her comments were meant to amend her thoughts on their relationship, progress slowly. Admittedly, one so inexperienced (within memory) as V would even confess to their already snail's pace. Not to mention the donning of what had finally been shed not too long ago: gloves and mask. And he so wanted to touch her.

They were reclined on the sofa much like when they watched a movie, him slouched into the cushions and she leaning into him, his arm around her back. The former terrorist shifted, bringing his hands together while keeping an arm around Evey. She began feeling hopeful and saw he was removing his gloves. She waited, but he did not remove his mask. She sunk into him. This would have to be enough for now. She was too tired to argue, to fight.

His warm, bared hand caressed her head and she closed her eyes. Snail's pace it may be, but at least it was progression. He began to speak, the rumble of his voice from his stomach as he spoke was soothing and warm. She could almost fall asleep.

"Evey, I'm going to try," he didn't elaborate, he didn't need to, "but you will need to be patient with me and know that I love you and they are no mere words. There are no words that could express them any better, but if there were I would surely have read them among all these books. No matter what I love you and I would like to believe," he paused briefly, stroking his hand through her short, light sandy hair, "that the same could be said of you to me."

She took his hand from her head and gently touched her lips to his palm. It was answer enough for him.

**Author's Notes:** So I went and typed up another chapter. I only gave it a cursory glance and I know that some sentences probably sound repetitive. As stated within the chapter itself there really wasn't any progression. This was more of a cool down chapter as it were.

As Belmont-Bellamy pointed out "Going into dark places isn't always easy" is true enough for me. I'm fairly happy-go-lucky kind of person and I love happy endings. But I figure, like reality, just happy fluff doesn't leave much for three dimensions in personality or stories.

Bluecrowlaughing- I'm glad you thought that line of text was haunting, I had hoped for an effect such as it apparently had on you.

Pyro- I have yet to unveil that bit, it could go anyway, but the more pressing matters are their emotional baggage for now.

Thank you very much to all reviewers mentioned above and also pinkarella7 (were there really 6 other people that had that name?) and verisimilitude722 for leaving a review.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

There was no snow in the streets of London, but there was ice. Evey picked along the sidewalk, hands shoved deep into her pockets and trying to hide her reddened nose into her scarf. Though she rarely wore hats, she was wearing a very subdued knit pulled down over her ears, some curls of short hair ringed the edges. It was well into January, not even a week away from February.

Time didn't show well in the Shadow Gallery and she had paused earlier realizing how much time had already passed. She had to get out and do something. For a while it had been all right to stay down there, taking care of a downed vigilante and then trying to sort out his self image. But now she didn't have much in the way of excuses. She couldn't live off of V's hard work doing none herself when she knew it was relatively safe top side, new governing agents taking over, hopefully for the better.

It appeared that V had been awaiting her departure to the world above, and approved. She hoped he would provide fake credentials to a fake name…

Evey sniffed, 'Oh I better not catch cold,' she thought, brushing through the crowd, newspaper now tucked under her arm. The skies were grey among the dreary dark shapes of buildings.

She stamped into the entrance, dislodging as much of the mud and dirt from her boots as possible. Placing down various papers she removed the muddied boots and put them along side a wall, slipping her feet into her house shoes. She had been very careful to return underground in a very roundabout way. With her new look she didn't worry as much about being recognized, especially after being face to face with a former coworker in queue soon after her release from V's detainment center. Not even a spark of recognition. But she didn't know who might be looking for her and she wasn't going to relax and involuntarily invite unwanted guests to the Shadow Gallery.

She walked down the hall into the main room, papers held to her chest.

"Welcome home Evey."

"AH!" she bit off her scream and spun around to see V seemingly waiting right by the corner she just past.

"You startled me!" she breathed then gave a cough. He was in front of her, removing the papers from her hands and deftly unbuttoned her coat to slip off of her.

"I apologise, that was not my intention. Take a seat, I'll bring you some nice, hot tea," he soothed, not liking the sound of her cough and hoped to nip it in the bud before it became worse.

"Thank you V," gratitude evident in her voice as she took her papers back from his hand and went to the so called living room.

V smiled to himself under his mask, it appears that his love didn't notice him following her. Before he could let himself worry he had made the decision to tail her top side, make sure that no trouble pursued his Evey. After he was certain of her safety once she went underground he took another of several entrances into the Shadow Gallery. He barely had placed on his Guy Fawkes mask and smoothed out any wrinkles in his black clothing before she arrived.

Though it appeared her main reason to go to town was to gather applications for possible job interests he had spotted her longing looks into certain windows. But she didn't enter any stores to browse, it was all business to her. How heartbreaking it was to see her calculating sums in her head and sigh midway, knowing the items she had looked at to far outweigh her light pockets. He almost heard her wistful thoughts, 'Not that I need them anyway…' as she turned and left to continue on.

Evey searched for a pen in the living room, V could hear books and other things being moved about and her mumbling to herself, "I swear I saw one here the other day…" as he readied a kettle for tea on the stove top.

"What is it that you are searching for?" he finally asked, wincing at the sound of books toppling over. He would definitely acquire the item in all due haste before she put his things out of order any further.

"A pen."

"Take a seat, I will have one for you shortly," he almost entreated upon discovering her poking around a precariously balanced stack of books and the various containers nearby. She looked up, a suggestion of a smirk evident, no doubt catching his tone. Evey allowed herself to be ushered to the kitchen and seated herself in the chair he drew out for her. No sooner was she seated then the kettle began hesitant to full blown whistling.

Clicking the dial off on the stove top, he lifted the kettle, pouring the hot water into a waiting teapot, letting the contents steep. He produced the promised pen for her and Evey set to her applications on the kitchen table. Not too long into it she paused. Who would she use as a reference? Would she even want to consider listing BTN? That was a laugh, even if she were to then she'd have to use her name.

Bloody hell! She'd need a false recommendation, records, a former employer! How many different voices could V make up?... In subdued thoughts she knew, more than adequate.

V started pouring her tea. He noticed her pause and just stare at the stack of papers before her. A curious, sardonic smirk caught at her lips. Then he was quite certain why she had paused. What could she use for the applications?

"Evey, if I may?" V motioned towards her papers.

She wordlessly pushed the stack to him as he placed the filled teacup and saucer before her. She picked up the delicate cup, blowing at it before taking a sip.

"I shall return," V announced, taking the papers with him. It wasn't long until he came back, a few more papers with him than when he had left. He set it all by her elbow.

"What are all these extra papers?" she asked, picking them up, eyes scanning.

"Your credentials, former employment, letters of recommendation, ID number…" he trailed off, enjoying her stunned look.

"You had this ready for me?" her eyes squinted, as if double checking her reading, "Evelyn Illyria?"

"Yes, I thought to provide an alias for you to go with the falsified information," V said, sounding quite pleased with himself.

She gave a grin.

**Author's Notes:** Yes, it's been more than long enough since I last updated. Sorry for the wait. I've had a busy year with my job on campus and classes. Unfortunately the trend will continue probably into late July since I will be taking summer classes and my job extends into the summer until around that time as well. I find I'm loosing my focus on what I want this story to be since I do want it to have plot. Thank you dear readers for your support! And a special thanks to those who left reviews and sent me messages to see if I'm still alive :-P:

Burntember, Belmont-Bellamy (I had hoped so, and what a male he is!), PyroSlytherin, Mirwen Sunrider (COOKIE!!), Free2Believe, Circe Visigoth, silversoraki


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